I am a French soldier who was sent on a mission to Afghanistan in 2001/2002. I was 21 years old, and I volunteered for the mission.

The role of my platoon was to maintain control over several small Afghan villages. It was very calm, as the fighting in that area had already ceased some time before my arrival. It was an incredibly profound human experience, as the local inhabitants were all kind, despite the language barrier. It's one of the rare privileges of being a soldier to meet people in such contexts and establish a connection with them.

In one of the villages closest to our base, I met an Afghan girl who spoke French fluently, with a very charming accent. She was 20 years old and her name was Emna. She taught the younger children in her village, and she was truly an adorable, beautiful, and intelligent girl.

After some time, a flirtation developed between us, and everyone in the village was talking about it. Her parents took it with a smile, and I remember her mother jokingly trying to say in English, "You will pay the dowry in baguettes, Monsieur le Français."

Time passed, and we became a sort of young couple during my occasional leaves. Six months had already gone by when I was sent over 200 kilometers away for a mission that was supposed to last for three months. Before leaving, I asked her father for her hand in marriage, and he accepted. We planned to marry upon my return.

The first two months were very long. It was a combat zone, and it was the first time I had been so close to death.

During the last week of the mission, I learned that rebels had retaken the village where Emna resided. When I was sent back to our base near her village, we had to fight to liberate some of our villages that had fallen back under rebel control. Finally, after liberating her village, I searched for her, but she was nowhere to be found. Her parents and soon the whole village searched for her, but she was missing.

I never saw her again. Her village was destroyed two years later and taken over by Afghan rebels. I lost contact with her parents.

Twenty years later, I have never forgotten our farewell kiss.